POEMS: Andrew Rippeon

jelly-throated with no ship as
supports by warble-clot; those silent
birds upon lines their eyes upon
the loves of my life—at
the end of whose line I
now lie, hanging—black-mouth song
courses through the natural gates and
alleys of a body pocked and
stopped with warble-thought; thin jelly
left where once was quick worm
in the throat bird on the
line little boy left in the
forest on the shore—alone—dancing

*

what quiet shore so heaped
with sighs upon the sand
at water’s edge; there salt
as mine, and wet as
well, as from all bodies
pours—as we often see
against some storm—now fire
pours, with it silence, then
windless speech pours at once
from soles to opened mouth

*

that man a writhing
child pitched on black-songs’
porch: nor hot rock
nor strings taut between
these small fingers sing
as birds drawn by
lines over seas; that
song’s throatless mouth through
skin—worm in the
throat’s hungerless song—sing

Andrew Rippeon teaches poetry and poetics at Hamilton College. He received his PhD in literature from the University at Buffalo, where from 2007-2011 he edited P-Queue and founded QUEUE Books. In addition to teaching, Andrew works as a letterpress printer, serves as the studio manager for The Press at Nine-Mile Swamp, and is editing a selection of letters from Larry Eigner to Jonathan Williams. His latest work of poetry, or “warble,” entitled Porches and from which these poems have been taken, ruminates on loss: “The man is dominated by an emotion which is inexpressible, because it is in excess of the facts as they appear…a parasite’s song from a burning beach…it therefore remains to poison life and obstruct action.” The book is letterpress printed and hand-bound in silk bookcloth, available from Delete Press.